James flushed. “You know what I was. You can guess what I dream.” Heat scalded Will’s skin, the image of Anharion still half in his mind, the sweet look in his blue eyes as he gazed down at Sarcean, who had reached up to run fingers through his long, golden hair— “No, I didn’t mean—” James’s flush deepened. “I don’t remember my dreams. But sometimes when I wake up, I can’t move. Trapped in sleep, but awake, and it’s as if . . . there’s a great power bending over me. And it’s whispering—” Find you. “—I will always—” Find you. Try to run.
